


Friendship Is Not Magic

by interstellarSpider



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Epic Friendship, Gen, Platonic Romance, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-15 23:49:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3466625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarSpider/pseuds/interstellarSpider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“'The miserable' – or miserably stupid, in your case - 'have no other medicine but hope.'”</p><p>"I cannot believe you just quoted Neitszche with a straight face. Like, why are we friends?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

_"Friends laugh together. Friends do things together."_

“What's wrong with you?”  
  
Alex glanced up at him. With just one slightly raised eyebrow Alex could communicate volumes to anyone willing to read past his mild personality – and it wasn't so much that Jay was willing as it was that years of being Alex's friend had kind of made it part of his skill set. He'd have to put it on his resume. _Strengths: Can cook a mean vegetarian lasagna and make Alex Kralie laugh until he cries._  Jay was already rolling his eyes before Alex had even finished responding.   
  
“I don't know, you stumped me. What's wrong with me?”

Jay made the 'You think you're so clever, but I've got your number, mister' face, which he had picked up from Alex's mother and purposely cultivated for moments just like this, when Alex was being a little too quiet and moody for his own good.  
  
Jay's usual remedy then involved pelting Alex with rubber bands, but the swivel chair, though equipped with wheels, was easily foiled by carpet, and the rubber bands were on a desk well out of arm's reach. Instead, Jay scrunched up his face in concentration, staring Alex down. After a few seconds Alex's other eyebrow joined the first and a wide, familiar grin pulled up the corners of his mouth, brightening his eyes and putting wrinkles on his forehead.  
  
“What, are you seriously throwing mental rubber bands at me right now?”  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“You know those are, by their very nature, completely ineffective?”  
  
“Come on, you gotta let a man have hope.”  
  
“'The miserable' – or miserably stupid, in your case - 'have no other medicine but hope.'”  
  
Jay swiveled in his seat one way, then all the way around again until he could look at Alex with his head tipped over the back of the chair.  
  
“I cannot believe you just quoted Neitzsche with a straight face. Like, why are we friends?”  
  
The resulting banter on the relevance of Friedrich Neitzsche in the modern era successfully distracted Alex from whatever he had been gloomily staring at out the window for the last 15 minutes, and Jay didn't push his initial line of questioning.  
  
This was why they were friends.


	2. The Real Beginning

_"Even the fat black crocodile on the sandbar can't swallow it and bury it."_

“Hey, Alex. Alex. Alex, hello? I don't know if you've heard the expression, but reviewing this script of yours is a two-way street and right now you're about as helpful as a brick wall. A brick wall going right across the two-way street, Alex.”

When this elicited no response, Jay took it upon himself to stand up from his chair and whap Alex on the head with the rolled-up sheets of paper he had been sifting through with a red pen all evening. Alex called it a script. Jay called it an exercise in navel-gazing gone horribly wrong.   
  
But they were friends, and if Alex was really as gung-ho about this as he had seemed on the ride home from college last week, then Jay was more than willing to help him out. After all, their entire relationship was built, not on the fact that they had a lot of stuff in common, but that they had learned to look on areas of divergent eccentricity with fond tolerance. Areas of vehement disagreement were still open to verbal fisticuffs, and occasionally verbal pistols at dawn, but Jay couldn't remember the last time they'd actually fought.

Which was why it was such a shock when Alex grabbed the script out of Jay's hand and stood up from the couch like he honestly meant to jam it down his throat. Jay had never seen Alex's face look like that before, in all the years he'd known the guy. Apparently he could pull off 'cold fury' like nobody's business. Jay immediately took a step back with his hands up in the universal 'I'm unarmed so calm your shit' gesture.

“Hey, I was just messing around. What the hell is your problem?”

Alex dropped back down onto the couch. He looked awful, Jay was only now noticing, with dark bags under his eyes and uneven stubble on his chin.  
  
“Did something happen with-”   
  
“No. It's nothing.”

Jay was relieved. He had no idea how he had planned on ending that question.  
  
Alex handed the papers back without looking at him, and Jay returned to his seat at the computer desk without saying anything. After a few awkward minutes, Alex dragged the second swivel chair over from the other side of the room and sat down next to him. When he rested his head on Jay's shoulder, Jay slumped back in the chair to make it easier on Alex's neck. Neither of them said anything. Jay found himself worrying about how bony his shoulder was and whether it really made the best pillow. He caught himself trying to mentally will his shoulder to be softer, but abandoned that train of thought quickly. He had always harbored a sneaking suspicion that Alex might be able to read minds, and if so he wanted him reading only his most impressive, erudite thoughts. And anyway, Alex seemed pretty comfortable where he was.   
  
“So, your heartfelt apology is completely accepted.”

Alex's eyes were closed and, as the corner of his mouth quirked up, some of the tension in his shoulders and forehead vanished.

“Good. I meant every word.”


	3. The End

_"Sometimes everything is wrong. Now it's time to sing along."_

Even if he had known Alex for a hundred years, he still never could have predicted things would end up this way.

Maybe that was why he couldn't stop himself from chasing after him. Even after everything he had seen, everything he had experienced... Alex had murdered people in cold blood. Jay had seen that with his own eyes. And now, here they were, standing in some musty, ramshackle hallway in the bottom of an abandoned building. _Pistols at dawn._

But Alex was the only one holding a gun.

Jay raised his hand, the one not holding the camera, showing that he was unarmed. Knowing that that wouldn't stop a bullet.

"Alex..."

Against all odds, Alex actually let him take a step forward. Then another. Then another. His hands were trembling, and he knew Alex must be able to see it in the light of his flashlight, but his voice, at least, was steady.

"Alex."

He could almost reach out and touch him, now. Alex's face was terrible to look at, an implacable mask whose eyes might as well have been made out of glass. His mouth was a straight, grim line. But he still didn't fire his gun. Even when Jay finally stood in front of him, daring to reach out and settle a hand on his shoulder, even when the act of bringing their bodies together meant that the camera in Jay's other hand was crushed awkwardly between them and Alex's gun was digging into his side.

He curled his hand around the back of Alex's neck where his hair was damp with sweat. Rested his forehead on Alex's shoulder.

"Please, just-"

Jay didn't dare move or speak when Alex shifted against him, the barrel of the gun moving up until it pressed against his chest - pushing him to take a step back. He did, not protesting, feeling nothing. This was it. There wasn't a thought in his head in these, his very final moments, and Alex - the Alex he knew from so many years ago - would have laughed to hear it. _As in life, so in death_ , Alex might have said, with that particular cant to his lips that filed away all the sharp edges to his words. Even though he hadn't felt them gathering, even though he didn't feel afraid, a few tears spilled over and rolled down Jay's face. He could see the shape of Alex's head move, blearily, and felt his cold lips press against his cheek. The first time Alex had ever kissed him.

"Jay."

Alex's voice was a little hoarse and quiet from disuse, but Jay's gaze was drawn back up to Alex's face as surely as if he had shouted his name. There might have been a flicker of emotion in Alex's eyes. Jay felt as if he could have put a name to it, if he had had just one more moment.

"I wish I'd never met you."

Then Alex shot him.


End file.
